A/N- I hope all the lovely reviewers that I could respond to got my notes. I really appreciate everyone who drops a few words for the lovely Flirt-dom. That said, here comes another chapter...so who is Flint really? Enjoy!
Flint was grabbing a coffee at the caf before he headed off to do his errands. Jeff was in the line for brunch, as it was already almost noon. Saturday mornings lent themselves to late meals at Dalton, as no self respecting boy rolled out of bed much before nine at the earliest. But Flint was due to meet his parents for lunch at one, so a quick shot of caffeine was all he needed right now.
"Good morning!" Flint looked around to see who the greeting was aimed towards, only to find that it had come from Kurt, who was standing beside him, smiling as he reached for a mug.
"Hey." Flint shifted, opening up his body towards the other boy. "Have a good sleep?"
Kurt filled his mug out of the carafe and nodded.
"Yeah, but I was confused when I woke up and went to check my messages, and lo and behold, my wallpaper had changed."
Flint screwed up his nose a bit bashfully, trying to look contrite. But really, he was just pleased that Kurt had taken it with a sense of humour.
"Well, I found this pic of a really handsome guy when I was looking at the directions, and I thought it was better than some abstract blue swirls."
Kurt laughed as he added milk into his cup.
"Well someone has a good opinion of themselves today."
Flint raised an eyebrow and let his attraction for Kurt outplay his hesitance. He reached across the stand, grabbing a stir stick, and brushing close to Kurt. He stalled even at Kurt's face, catching his eyes.
"I meant you, but it's good to know that you think I'm handsome too." He slid back with a wink, which made Kurt swallow thickly.
"Well, I mean...um. Thanks? And you are. Handsome." Kurt felt his cheeks heating up and he rolled his eyes at his own clumsy words. He took a deep breath and tried to restart the conversation that had actually been functioning before Flint had closed in on him. He tugged the hem of his sweater straight to buy some time before he looked back up at the smiling boy with confidence.
"So, I know you said you had some errands to run, but I was wondering if you had time to grab coffee today?" Kurt glanced up through his eyelashes at Flint. Flint sighed.
"I'd like to, but I've got lunch with my parents soon, and then I have.. somewhere to be."
Kurt looked a little disappointed, but he shrugged it off, putting a squeeze of honey in his drink.
"Oh. Okay. I knew you'd probably be busy, but I thought I'd give it a try just in case."
"I'll maybe...see you tonight or something?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll see you later." Kurt gave him a half hearted wave and Flint only had a minute to be frustrated before Jeff filled the space next to him, holding his full tray.
"What'd Kurt want?"
"Coffee date. But I'm going to lunch with my parents, then to Bryant Park today." Jeff nodded in recognition.
"You alright?"
Flint shrugged.
"Kay...well, I'm going to go to the studio to help Allie teach a junior class, and see if she wants to go out for dinner afterwards, so the room is all yours. I know you usually like to chill by yourself for a while."
"Thanks man." Flint gave his friend a halfhearted smile and pushed off from the coffee stand. "I should get going."
"Alright. See you later man."
"Hey Flint!" Flint looked around the restaurant til he saw the waving hand of his little sister in a booth.
He weaved through the other tables, smiling at the hostess, and waving back at his family.
"Hi Danny. Mom, Dad." He leaned across that table to hug his mom and slid into the open space next to Danielle.
"How was the drive?" His dad asked.
Paul Wilson was tall, like his son, and lankier, his skin creased around his eyes and highlighted by silver framed glasses. His hair was fine in texture, but it was all still there. and silver had started taking over his temples in the last ten years.
Next to him, Leslie Wilson was ash blonde and stylish, with the same bright blue eyes as Flint. His Aunt Suzanne had told him he'd always looked like he was born to make friends and charm people, that he had "warm" eyes. He had never really agreed, but he couldn't help but hope maybe Kurt liked them at least.
Beside Flint himself, Danielle was wearing an Everett Vauxhall field hockey hoodie. She had called him in September, gushing over how she was the only freshman to make the starting team, and while he teased her for wearing it all the time, he was all kinds of big brother proud.
"It was fine. Not too much traffic. How's school going sis?"
Danielle turned in her seat, pushing her hair behind her ears in a most-practiced teenage girl motion.
"Awesome! Hailey, my roommate, had an extra ticket for this indie band concert in town, and she asked me to go, and when we were there, I met this guy named Alex, who goes to school with Hailey's brother, and he is totally cute! And he added me on facebook afterwards, and sent me some songs that he thought I'd like, cause of the concert, and I totally already knew about them, cause some of them were on that playlist you made for me, but it was really sweet anyways."
Flint let out a snort of laughter as his father rolled his eyes, rubbing at his temple. His older sister Vanessa had been quiet and shy, and hadn't really dated in high school. His dad was going to have a hell of a time with Danielle, who was outgoing and affectionate.
"That's cool Danny, just make sure he's not a jerk. And if he is, you let me know."
Danielle scoffed.
"I'm not stupid. Actually, I'm very selective. I know what boys are like." Even his mom laughed at the pronouncement, and Flint pulled her into a hug.
"Good to know."
"You should tell me too! If any boys are jerks to you. I can hit them in the shins with my hockey stick or something."
His mom smiled fondly at the both of them. It was nice that they got along now. When they were children, they had been screaming horrors to each other, with Vanessa playing the reluctant peacekeeper.
"Danny, don't tease your brother. You know he doesn't like talking about that."
Flint bit his lip. It was true. He didn't find it a particularly comfortable thing to talk with his family about relationships, or his lack thereof. It wasn't about the fact that he was gay. It probably would have been the same if he'd liked girls. It was just awkward to always say that there wasn't really anyone who liked him like that.
"So, what did you do last night?" His mom inquired.
Flint took a deep breath.
"Well, actually, I was out on a date."
"You have a boyfriend? Dyou have a picture?" She started pawing at the pockets of Flint's jacket for his phone but he batted her hands away.
"Hey, hey, settle down. I don't have a boyfriend," He shrugged, playing around with the cutlery roll on the table. "It was only a date."
"Do we know him?" His dad asked cautiously.
"Um, I don't think so."
His mom reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
"You don't have to say anything, you'll tell us when you're ready."
Flint couldn't help it though.
"His name's Kurt." He blurted. God, he was as bad as his thirteen year old sister.
"Does he go to Dalton?" Danielle asked.
"Yeah, and he's in the Warblers. He just transferred last semester, from Lima."
"Did you guys have a good time?" Flint smiled at his mom.
"Yeah. We went out and got dinner."
"And you were a gentleman? We've told you, we don't care whether you're dating boys or girls, you know to treat them with respect. That goes for you too." Paul added, pointing over at Danielle, but keeping his eye on his son. His own father had given him this speech, of a sort, when he'd gone to his first dance in eight grade. But that had been in the 1960s, in South Carolina, and surrounded by his father's support of the civil rights movement. It was something he always carried with him, and Paul had been thankful that he was raised to appreciate diversity when Flint had come out to them a few years ago. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have beliefs that would have asked him to hate who his son was.
"Of course." Flint replied, looking slightly more timid. Leslie put her hand on her husband's arm under the cover of the table, and gave it a squeeze. Paul smiled to himself at his wife's silent urging to ease up on their son.
"Well, if it gets serious, you make sure to bring him around for a meal some time. I'm sure we'll like him."
"I will, if it goes anywhere. I..." Flint looked at his father earnestly. He knew his father loved him, knew that he had never said a word against Flint liking other boys. But Flint always felt like he needed to say something a little more, needed to assure him that there was no reason he couldn't be the perfect son he felt he ought to be just because he was gay. "I think you'd like him. His dad has a garage in Lima, and they fixed up his car, like we did with the Mustang."
"If you picked him out, I'm sure he's a catch." Leslie insisted, watching the tension in her son's face diminish."Now have you talked to Vanessa lately? Apparently she's part of the drama society at school, designing sets and staging."
Lunch was pleasant. His mother had reminded him that he wasn't calling as regularly as she would like, his father gave him a bit of a rough time for his spending habits at the Westerville music store and on eBay, and his sister said that "Bills, Bills, Bills" was "lame, lame, lame."
But it was nice to see them. It was just easier to board at Dalton than commute two hours everyday and take care of Danielle when both of his parents were travelling for work.
It would have been nice to just pick up the batteries and new headphones he needed to get, and head back to Dalton, maybe see if Kurt still wanted to get that coffee. But when his mom and sister excused themselves to the washroom at the end of the meal, any chance of that was shot to heck.
His father looked at him, suddenly seeming older and more tired than a moment before.
"Have you visited with her lately?"
Flint knew without him saying who he was referring to.
"I was going to go today. After this."
His father nodded slowly.
"I know it's hard...Danielle went to tears last time, and hasn't been in months. The physician says its advancing, and I don't want to admit he's right but..."
Flint felt his throat tightening up. This was his father, who was supposed to be unshakeable. But lately, Flint had started to actually realize that his dad was just a person. That he had his own weaknesses. That maybe he wasn't always okay. And to be completely honest, he wasn't sure that he was ready to be there for his dad as a friend as well as a son. His father shook his head slightly and cleared his throat.
"It's good of you to keep up your visits. You're becoming a good man, Flint. Your mother and I, you know we're proud of you?" Flint nodded, not sure what to say in return. Thankfully his mom and sister returned and he just kept his eyes down as he walked with them out to the parking lot. He said goodbye and climbed into his car.
He knew he couldn't skip now. Not after what his father had just said. Coffee with Kurt would have to wait.
Flint leaned on the reception counter at Bryant Park Assisted Living, giving a weak smile to the woman in scrubs behind the desk.
"Hi, I'm here to see Ellen Wilson."
"Relation?"
"I'm her grandson. Flint Wilson."
"Alright." She took out a purple binder from below the counter, flipping to a tabbed page and sliding it onto the desk. "Just sign in here, name, time and date, and make sure you sign back out. Oh, and visiting hours are over at 4 pm."
Flint signed the page that he had signed so many times before, checking the oversized institutional clock on the wall, and turned the binder back around. He headed past the lobby towards the pale hallway that led to a "Music Room," which was really just a lounge with a standup piano. A woman with smooth white hair was sitting by the window, a nurse clearing up around the room.
"Oh hello," The nurse called out as Flint stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
"Hi Mathilde. How's everything going?" The nurse glanced over at the woman.
"It's not a bad day, not a great day. How are you feeling today Ellen?" She raised her voice, directing it towards the woman at the window. She turned at the question, smiling happily.
"Oh just fine. Now who is this young man? "
Mathilde smiled at Flint sympathetically.
"This is Flint, Ellen. He's going to play the piano for you."
"That sounds wonderful. My husband's name is Flint as well! He'd love to hear this. Could you go get him for me?" Mathilde nodded, helping Ellen to the bench of the piano .
"I'll see if I can find him."
Flint have her a silent thank you as Mathilde receded from the room. She wasn't going to get the other Flint. His grandfather, Flint Wilson, who he had been named after, had passed away six years ago.
Flint finished the last bars of the song and looked to the elderly woman sitting next to him on the piano bench.
"You're such a nice boy to come here and play for me." She put her hand on Flint's. "What was your name again sweetie?"
Flint swallowed thickly.
"Flint."
Ellen hummed, smiling at his face without any sign of recognition.
"My husband's name is Flint. Flint Wilson. I always thought it sounded like a movie star. He has a wonderful voice."
"Yeah?" He had heard this story before. Many times. But he wanted to hear it again.
"The first time I saw him he was on stage. He sang at my friend's eighteenth birthday party. And before the end of the night, I had abandoned my escort to talk to him. We talked until one in the morning. My father was so mad when I got home."
Flint smiled, but it faded away as his grandmother looked out to the windows. He could tell she was slipping away. He sighed, bracing himself. Ellen turned to him, looking faintly surprised.
"Oh hello. What are you doing here?" Her voice was kind, and genuinely inquisitive, but she might as well have slapped him. "Are you a new nurse? I'm Ellen." She held out her hand and Flint shook it.
"Flint." He croaked out.
"My husband's name is Flint-"
He couldn't take anymore today. He stood up sharply, his hand hesitantly resting on her shoulder for a moment.
"I'm going to go get Mathilde."
"Okay dear. Such a nice girl, that Mathilde." He hurried into the hallway, and saw her standing at the nurses' station.
"Are you leaving Flint?" He nodded tightly, a gesture she recognized in the boy. As she passed him by she patted his arm. "I'll go take care of her, love. Drive safe."
He smiled his thanks, only stopping for a minute to sign out, and almost jogged to his car, slamming the door behind him. It wasn't a long ride back to Dalton, but he hoped it was enough time to pull himself back together.
Kurt was reading over his biology notes when he saw Flint's ducked dark head pass by the doorway of the study room. He laid them down and moved to hang out the door.
"Flint?" The boy stopped and looked back at the call of his name.
"Did you-" They had both stepped towards each other and Kurt scanned across Flint's face. "Are you okay?"
Flint couldn't meet Kurt's eyes. So he just shrugged.
"Yeah, 'course."
Kurt ducked his head to the side, trying to look into the other boy's face. He frowned at the tight lines across Flint's brow.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like hell. Come on." Kurt's voice was commanding, and Flint found himself reluctantly following him back into the study room. Kurt sat on the couch and patted the space next to him, looking expectant. Flint stared at the spot before he flung himself down, crossing his arms defensively. Kurt was watching him, observing. Flint knew this wasn't what he really wanted his crush to see. Him looking and feeling like crap, sulking and stubborn and trying to hide it.
"Look, I know I like to talk about things, but not everyone is like me...so..." Kurt's commanding demeanour seemed to deflate slightly, becoming more concerned. "I just don't want you sitting alone in your room like this."
"That's what I usually do...Kurt...I don't..." Flint finally caught his eye and Kurt saw the frustration.
He faltered. Maybe he should have just left Flint alone.
"You want to be by yourself. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to force you in here." Flint sighed and leaned back against the cushions.
"I usually do. Want to be by myself." Kurt nodded tightly and moved to get up, only to be stopped by Flint's voice sounding rough and a little hesitant. His hands were clutching his knees tightly.
"But..." Kurt cocked his head, waiting for the coming words. "I'm not going to be a good conversationalist right now, and I am probably sabotaging any chance of you actually finding me attractive in any way...but if you want to stay, I mean...I'd be okay with it. It- I, um- I think I'd like that. But you don't have to."
Flint could feel his ears heating up. He hated being dependent, hated the idea of needing someone, but right now, maybe it would be okay to have someone there. Especially if that someone was Kurt.
"Can I hold your hand?" Flint glanced up at the other boy, confused. Kurt stared back at him steadily.
"You're upset. And if it's not your thing, I'm not going to make you talk about it or insist you cry on my shoulder. But if you want, I'd like to sit with you. And hold your hand for a while."
Flint didn't know what to say. So he didn't say anything. He just released the grip of his right hand on his knee, and let Kurt slip his fingers in between his own. Kurt's thumb smoothed lightly over his index finger and the boy just curled up on the couch next to him, laying his head on the cushion next to Flint's shoulder. Flint didn't feel okay just yet, but he knew that he did feel better.
